(Sadly, I don't own Naruto. Also, as a quick note, this is pretty much a random drabble thing I did last night. I thought it was nice, so, I figured, what the heck! Up here it goes!And, yes, It's meant to end the way it does. Look closely at the beginning right after reading the ending if you don't get it.)

a quick look at something, especially one that provides and overall general impression was what had happened, and was happening, and destroying him secretly from the inside Out.

-he didn't need to see something twice to know what it was about. It was just the way he worked, the way his eyes worked. He looked at something once and knew just what it was, just how it functioned, and how it could be put into action with his own plans and how it could help him.

Those were his constant thoughts. What did he need, what functions did it need to have, how could it be put into action with is own plans, how it could help him.

It was also a constant way how he lost many people who were close.

With that black-haired, red-eyed brother who had slaughtered human beings like it was a normal thing to do, he just looked him over once- coup d'oeil!- and figured out that he didn't need him anymore, that he didn't want someone like him around him anymore to torment him, and shrugged him aside.

With that wide-eyed cherry blossom who never shut up for five seconds, he just looked her over once- coup d'oeil!- before he deemed her unworthy of helping the cause he lived for and shrugged her aside.

With that silver-haired, one-eyed weirdo who lead his old team, he had deemed him pretty worthy of helping him and training him, but the moment he had tried to convince him to stay in the village, he just looked him over once- coup d'oeil!- and shrugged him aside.

With that sky-blue-eyed blonde-haired nutcase who never stopped going on and on and on constantly about his dreams, he just looked him over once- coup d'oeil!- and-

His constant stream of coup d'oeil had ended with the moment he looked at him. But the thoughts still kept on coming and coming and his mind just kept on processing and processing like it normally did, and, no matter how much his heart screamed, he shrugged him aside, because no matter what he thought, he wasn't what he needed, he didn't have the correct functions, he couldn't be put into action with his own plans, and he couldn't help him.

So he left, with his sweet little collections of constant coup d'oeil that pierced his heart with such intensity of extremely-fast bullets that he's surprised they don't kill him straight on. But he still did it. He had to. No matter what, revenge ruled him, and revenge he was going to be ruled by, no matter what, so that he finally killed who he wanted to kill and went on with his life, with his sweet little collections of constant coup d'oeil.

No matter how much he longed to see that sky-blue-eyed blonde-haired nutcase who never stoped going on and on and on constantly about his dreams, he had still just looked him over once- coup d'oeil!- and shrugged him aside, leaving him in the dust now and forever, for he had no use for him if he wasn't going to help his plans.

When did he start thinking like that? When had he started to let revenge and hatred consume him and he hurt people and murdered and became nearly just as horrible as the person who he wanted to kill? How long was it going to take him to realize all of that, too? That, with his sweet little collections of constant coup d'oeil, he was becoming more and more and more like the person who he hated, and strived to kill.

Did that mean that he was striving to kill himself? Oh, well, that part didn't matter much to him anymore, living was just as bad as being dead now, with his constant coup d'oeil-doing that was beginning to weigh so heavily on his heart that he feared it would be crushed at any single moment. He had pulled that act so many times and, henceforth, lost so many people who had once been so close to him.

With that black-haired, black-eyed, drawn pale face that he saw in the mirror every morning, he just looked himself over once- coup d'oeil!- and shrugged himself away, just like he had with everyone else. Because it was becoming all the same for him. Revenge was just the same as ever, his hatred was just the same as ever, his solitude and pain was just the same as ever, nothing was ever changing, everything always stood still, nothing was ever in motion anymore, there was nothing to make him think normally anymore. But still-